


Poison and Wine

by MapleTreeway



Series: Poison and Wine AU [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Borderline Prostitution, Lap Dances, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Modern AU, Pole Dancing, Snoke Is A Creep, Strip Tease, Sugar Daddy Hux, but by sugar daddy i just mean the money part not the age difference, he's five years older than kylo not the age of Stonehenge, hux is a billionaire ceo, in which kylo is a conceited piece of shit but hey what else is new, kylo's his personal-assistant-turned-boy-toy-turned-husband, mentions of assault, stripper! kylo, this story gets dark real fast just warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleTreeway/pseuds/MapleTreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux and Kylo were newlyweds. They'd gotten hitched on the Fourth of July in this big, elaborate wedding that only ever existed in the movies; kissed in front of the altar with so much passion it seemed as if they'd never stop; and then, after a party of a reception, they went to a pricey hotel to have earth-shattering sex. It was perfect. It was everything and anything that Kylo had ever dreamed of and more.</p><p>But then, four days after the wedding and two days before their honeymoon, Hux was discovered dead in his office. Foul play incredibly apparent.</p><p>The prime suspect?</p><p>Kylo Ren-Hux himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> okay before i say anything else, i'd like to give a hell of a shout out to cute-combeferre! She's been amazing and helped a lot and half of this AU is hers! you can follow both her and i on tumblr at cute-combeferre, and generalhuxisgay, respectively.
> 
> the set-up for this might be a little confusing, so allow me explain: there will be three different mini plots interwoven into the bigger plot. they'll be placed in a patterned order, beginning with the police/court one chapter, then to the important key moments the next, then to the day of the murder, before recycling back again. hope this helped!

_"No one loves the messenger who brings bad news."_ \- Sophocles

**::ii::**

There were knocks at the door, and somehow they were louder than the sounds of the police sirens outside. Whatever blue-red light shone through the shutters bounced off the walls, making the same cycle over and over again. _Blue red blue blue red blue red…_

Kylo took a sip of wine as he watched from where he sat on his bed. It was fine wine, expensive and sweet and from Spain, and having to put it down to answer the police's call was a rather bothersome chore. For a second he entertained the thought of not answering. Of staying holed up inside his bedroom with the bottle and glass, getting steadily drunk. Or maybe of going right up next to the door and yelling, "No one's home!"

But no. That was illegal, they could detain him for doing any of those things. Not to mention it would be just plain stupid on his own part. Not answering the police? How ballsy…

Better to go see what they wanted; it'd save everyone the trouble.

So he poured one more glass, relishing the taste of it as he walked out his bedroom, down the hall, and to the staircase. The glass stairs beneath his feet were cool, ideal for the summer temperature outside. A perfect contrast that was present even in the dead of winter, when the temperature dropped below freezing. The staircase was always warm then - just as it was always cool now.

It was Hux's idea, really. Kylo's husband always loved to pair contrasting objects together. Gray and red, cold and hot, him and Kylo. Everything had to contrast for maximum effectiveness. "It's more orderly that way, more clean cut," he had said once. "Chaos is the worst fucking thing imaginable. It's messy and no one is in control."

"Without chaos you wouldn't have your order," Kylo had pointed out. "Think about it."

"I am and I don't like it."

“Are you insinuating that you don’t like _me,_ Hux?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m simply implying I would like you a lot better if you weren’t so -” Hux had waved his hands in the air, which made Kylo’s eyes narrow. “You know what? Forget it. Just don’t trash this place again, idiot, or I swear you’re paying for the next remodel.”

Kylo hadn’t said anything, just poured his then-fiancé another shot of bourbon before leaving him to his work.

That conversation, if he remembered correctly, had taken place just six months ago in Hux’s study. Where had the time gone? It’d flown by so fast Kylo could scarcely remember it. Everything was a blur save for the planning and the compromises and the wedding date.

And Hux. 

Hux was the center point, the X on the map. Nothing bad was allowed to happen to him, no one was allowed to kill him. Which was tricky business considering that Hux had made a handful of enemies during his career. Despite being 34, he’d already been the subject of one or two murder plots, all of which were (thankfully) shut down before they could be carried out. 

No, _assassination._

They were assassination plots. Not murder plots. Murder was too low a word for the likes of Hux, multibillionaire and CEO of First Order Co., known by virtually everyone. Or if they didn’t know him, they knew his products. And if they didn’t know him _or_ his products, they sure as hell knew who his father was. After all, it was hard to forget Brendol in all his infamous glory.

So where Kylo was the dragon, Hux was the treasure. Guarded and not to be stolen or destroyed. All _his his his._

The sirens were growing louder, now, along with Kylo’s heartbeat. Those plots had been made public, the conspirators thrown in prison by a jury. Hux had always been safe at the end of the day. So far as Kylo knew, there wasn’t a reason for the police to surround his house. When he passed by the foyer closet, he reached in blindly, feeling for silk. _Blue red blue blue red..._ The shadows danced, his heart raced, where on earth was the stupid robe? Worriedly, he put his empty glass down. _Blue red red blue red..._

There! Kylo grunted as he slipped on Hux’s robe, inhaled his husband’s scent to steady himself. There would be press, he knew. Outside. There would be press outside snapping pictures of him answering his door in the dead of night. Taking in his every move, every expression.

“Breathe, you got this. Breathe.”

Flashes from cameras went off as soon as he opened the door. He had to shield his eyes and blink a few times before he could see the policewoman in front of him. She was saying something he couldn’t make out; but before he knew what, she was pushing past him and into the house, dragging him and a few other police officers with her. The door was shut, the windows’ curtains drawn to a close as well. Kylo merely watched with a confused face. “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. “Do you know who I -”

“Oh shut up already. You do a lot of barking for being a trophy wife, do you know that?” the policewoman said gruffly. Her hazel eyes eyed him up and down, the look of suspicion about as evident as the sky was blue. 

Come to mention it, the more Kylo took her appearance in, the more she looked familiar to him. Short and petite with brown hair falling out of three buns. It was all in her posture too, the compensation. Arms at her hips and feet spread apart to make herself seem bigger than she really was. Tch, typical. It didn’t work either, at least not on him. He still could take her down if need be. Her tag read _Police Commissioner Rey,_ and that’s when it clicked. “Why _you -”_

“Look, Ben - it is Ben right?” When he narrowed his eyes, she sighed. “Really? You prefer _Kylo_ over Ben?”

“What do you want, Rey?”

“You might need to sit down for this. Go on, sit down.”

Anger started to bubble in him at her tone and order. _She waltzes into my house with her army of jackasses without a fucking warrant. This is illegal. I’m going to sue the whole fucking police station and make damn sure she gets fired,_ he thought as he slowly lowered herself into the nearest sofa. With a huff he tugged Hux’s robe tighter around himself. Flipped his hair for good measure too. Just to show that he in no way liked taking orders from her.

Rey perched on the coffee table’s edge, eyes turning sympathetic. But the doubt was still there. Kylo knew. He always knew what people were thinking or feeling, it was a gift of sorts. “Mr Solo -” she began, only to be cut off.

“Ren-Hux,” Kylo corrected.

“Mr Ren-Hux, I regret to inform you that your husband was found dead in his office at 8:42 this evening.”

And suddenly the anger left his body. Drained him whole. It felt like someone had closed his airway and was choking him to death. The world fell out from under him, the muffled noises from outside fell away completely, he couldn’t hear or see or _breathe._ Oh. _Oh._ Hux was dead. He was - not any more - just -

 _There it is,_ Kylo thought. _There it fucking is._


	2. Tips and Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this is late, school's been kicking my ass. also the next chapter most likely won't be posted until early july on account of me moving, but i'll see what i can do for you guys. after that it should be smooth sailing.
> 
> note: this chapter is the first key moment in hux and kylo's relationship. it's roughly 2 1/2 years before hux dies. also please take note that _rape is implied _here along with prostitution__

_"Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”_ \- Oscar Wilde

**::x::**

As soon as Ben entered the club, he knew it would be a busy night. Which was fine, he had no problem with busy nights, seeing as that meant more tips flown at him. More tips meant more money, more money meant better overall takeaway when his shift was over. Or, on the other hand, it could mean less takeaway if the guys he danced for turned out to be broke scrubs who’d never held a hundred dollar bill before.

With a nod to the bouncer, he made his way to the changing area to get ready. Despite it being a no-smoking zone, it still reeked of cigarettes no matter where Ben went. Probably due to the stains in the carpet and walls from its decades of existence. Legend had it that it used to be a rundown dope house. The notion was ironic, really, considering that this was one of the finer strip clubs in the city. 

Just from looking at the stages it was apparent. Neon lights lined the edges, the floors polished to perfection. The poles were made to glow in the dark with vibrant blues or reds or greens, illuminating the dancer’s outline. Overall it held a kind of futuristic feel to it, sleek and cold. Professional. Ben had danced on all of the stages at least a dozen times since he’d been hired a few months back. And while it wasn’t the _best_ place he’d danced at, it was a close second.

“Ben! You’ve got thirty minutes until your shift starts!”

Ben whirled around to give his boss, an ugly old man named Snoke, an incredulous look. “I don’t show for another hour!” he exclaimed.

“A VIP is coming in today and requested our best dancers,” Snoke said, leaning against the doorway. His eyes bore into Ben’s, made him feel small and powerless. “However if you really do take as slow to get dressed for a _show_ as you do after our _deal_ , then maybe you’re not fit for it.”

The dancer grit his teeth and looked away, knowing full well the consequences of not complying. Not complying meant worsening his deal with Snoke, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. The only reason there was a deal in the first place was for the extra cash; and for him to fuck it up by being insubordinate...there was no way in hell. It wouldn't be worth it. So he said, “I’ll be there.”

“You’re forgetting something, Ben.”

“I’ll be there, Supreme Leader.”

“Good boy.”

Ben’s stomach flipped at the predatory smile Snoke sent him. _Good boy._ It was always _“Good boy”_ when they were through. It was always _“Good boy”_ when Snoke was satisfied. Praised him like a dog who completed a cheap trick or obeyed an order. 

And maybe Ben was one - a dog. And maybe Snoke was his master. Maybe Ben was Snoke’s bitch who provided him comfort because he was a lonely old man. Let Snoke pet him for a treat worth a future full of financial stability. And each time Ben performed a trick he’d get a treat; the bigger and longer the trick, the bigger and better the treat. 

But no matter what lens Ben looked through, the reality always made him nauseous.

So he turned away before he could throw up. He needed to get ready anyhow.

**::x::**

“When the old man who runs this dump said he’d send his best strippers, I took him for his word. Now I can see he’s a petty liar,” the VIP guest snarked. He took a drag of his cigarette while his friends laughed. Green eyes looked Ben up and down with barely concealed intrigue and he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Kylo Ren,” Ben answered, giving his stage name. It became painfully aware of how hard he was assessing him just then. Judging his makeup, the suit he was wearing; it made him a bit indignant to think he might not find it sexy, if he was being honest. Straightening himself up to his full height, he said, “And I’m the best dancer you’ll find.”

The statement earned him a scoff. “You think that’s a good thing? Something to be proud of? You think you’re hot shit, huh.”

Anger boiled in Ben’s chest, but he dialed it down. If this man was a VIP, that meant he was loaded. By further extent, he needed whatever tips he could gain from this ginger bitch, seeing as requests took away from working the crowd. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper. He needed to make a good impression.

He needed to stop being Ben and start being Kylo.

Leaning in close, he said in a low voice, “I’m so good that you’ll go home tonight and lie awake in bed and the only two things that you’ll be aware of are the mental replays of my striptease and your growing boner. Then you’ll take your already pre-cumming dick in your hand and jerk off to fantasies that involve me in them.” 

He took the ginger’s tie in one hand, placed his other on the VIP’s knee, and slowly, sensually sunk lower. He maintained eye contact with him, taking note of how the other’s eyes were getting steadily dilated in the semi-dark. Grinning wickedly, he continued, “Perhaps they’re images of me being tied-up and gagged, awaiting your punishment. And you’ll gladly punish me for teasing you so. And the punishment will be systematically hard. So hard that I’m begging you to be inside me or for you to go _faster. Deeper._ Oh the thought of skin-on-skin will become so pseudo-tangible that it’s almost real to you as you finally climax alone, in your bed, in the middle of the night.”

Kylo was now at blowjob level, looking up. It gave him a sense of accomplishment to see the other man look so flustered. Ginger Bitch was trying his best to conceal his boner, Kylo could tell by the slight-but-not-too-apparent bulge in his pants. Bingo. Hit the nail on the head. _Of course he’s the BDSM type,_ he thought. _It seems all high-class businessmen are._

Thrilled at the way he got him wrapped around his finger, the dancer started to rub circles on the customer’s knee, each one going a little further up. “And when you come back - and believe me, you will - you’ll request me again. But you know what?”

“What?” The VIP asked with faux annoyance. His voice was was slightly out of breath.

Kylo dropped the tie and put both hands on the man’s inner thigh, applying just the right amount of pressure. He leaned in so that he could whisper in his ear, _“I’ll refuse you service.”_

He gave his thighs one last squeeze before pulling away and waltzing onstage. Behind him, the businessman’s friends were hollering, already drunk off their asses.

With a nod to the DJ, he got into his starting position on the pole. Since all VIPs were automatically directed to the champagne room, having already paid their extra fee, it was primarily a private show. Each champagne room came with it’s own oval stage, complete with a pole on each side. The middle was, naturally, for the lap dances that took place.

Around the stage, the couches lined the walls. Soft and velveteen, they had been installed only a month ago on account of the various complaints from dancers that the previous leather ones made inappropriate noises. Snoke hadn’t been too happy, as velveteen looked cheap and not at all futuristic, yet he had complied anyway. But he made it damn well clear that they would only be temporary replacements until he found more suitable material. 

Ginger Bitch and his cronies lounged on them now, waiting for the show to begin, sipping champagne. When the lights dimmed to a low red and the pole started to glow, they sat up a little straighter. When “Partition” came on, they started to whistle. 

_Showtime,_ thought Kylo.

_“Give me something!”_

And he started to dance.

With both hands, he grabbed the pole and started off with no handed climb before descending into a bow and arrow move. Just to get their attention. Then he eased into a few spinning maneuvers like the flyer and the angel and the showgirl. It felt great to dance on the pole for an audience - especially if the audience was soaking it up like sponges to water like his were now. Because goddamn if there was one thing he was good at, it was this. Ben wasn’t a graceful person, but Kylo sure as hell was. At least on the pole.

_“Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor.”_

Kylo maintained eye contact with Ginger Bitch as he rolled his hips on the pole, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly. He got a raised eyebrow in response. That frustrated him, made him feel inadequate, so as the interlude between Yoncé/Partition happened, he got off the stage to grab Ginger Bitch and prompt him to sit on the lap dance chair. Ginger Bitch shook his head a few times, rolled his eyes; but when Kylo shrugged and offered the position to a friend, he growled out a, “Fine then!”

_“Driver roll up the partition please.”_

Eyes firmly on the VIP now, Kylo slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket, teasing him. As soon as the beat hit, though, he ripped it off and threw it to the side, fully exposing his bare chest and abs. He kept the tie on to increase sex appeal for his customer. Ginger Bitch at least had the decency to look appreciative when it happened, even more so when Kylo slid on the floor and started dirty dancing on him. 

“Fuck,” the ginger whispered when Kylo rolled his hips.

_Fucking finally_ , Kylo thought. He couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face.

Stepping away now, he walked back to the pole, bending down slowly to show off his assets. When he came up again, he looked over his shoulder at his customer. His customer, who’s red face rivaled the lights. _Good, this is good_ , he thought, feeling proud of himself. He did a few more quick tricks on the pole before catwalking over to the man again. He grabbed his hands and pulled him up, pushing their bodies close to sway better.

_“Handprints and footprints on my glass; handprints and good grips all on my ass.”_

“Ah!” Ginger Bitch gasped.

“Enjoying it, sir?” Kylo asked in a low tone. For added measure, he gave the man’s ass another squeeze before pushing him down onto the floor. Fast paced, he did a series of grinds, making sure to lift himself above enough to not touch. Green eyes widened in surprise, widened even further when he flipped him so that he was on top. 

“It’s H-Hux,” he stammered out. “Now - _oh._ Now put me back on the chair, Ren.”

“As you wish, _Hux."_

Kylo picked him up with ease, spinning around once or twice before depositing Hux on the chair. 

He finished the song up with a few more lap dance moves along with some solo erotic dancing, touching himself where Hux was prone to looking. Which, invariably, was his crotch area and abs. Towards the end, he let Hux take off his pants, which left him completely naked save for the black and red thong he wore. Everyone went wild, cheering and throwing dollar bills at him. Hux just stared.

“Never seen a thong before?” Kylo whispered in his ear, hands dangerously close to his customer’s groin.

“Of course I have, don’t be stupid.”

“Mm I’m sure.”

“I _have!”_

“Your candor is well received, sir.” He gave his inner thigh a good, long squeeze before pulling away. He waved a hand to him to the crowd and bowed, noticing a few of his co-workers filing in from his peripheral vision. _Time’s up_ , he thought, getting himself and Hux off the stage after his bow.

The rest of the night was spent delegating between the champagne room and other customers outside it. It was more exhausting than usual, since he was working his ass off in more than one room. But he managed somehow. He had to anyway, it was his job.

He didn’t know if it was just him, but whenever he was in the champagne room Hux didn’t take his eyes off him. It was unnerving and irritating and reeked of creep and always seemed to intensify if he gave one of the ginger’s friends a dance. Then he figured that Hux was only going to show for one night and then he’d be gone to hell knew where doing fuck knows what. They’d never have to interact again. He could bear with this for one night.

Around 3 a.m. Hux decided enough was enough and started to leave. Surprisingly he wasn’t the least bit drunk, unlike his friends. And when he passed Kylo as he left, he brought him to the side. “Take this, it’s your tip,” he told him, tucking bills into the thin waistband of Kylo’s thong. Then he left. Kylo watched him go and only when he was out of sight did he pull the money out. 

And his heart damn well near stopped.

“Holy shit,” he said, counting out the hundred dollar bills to the grand total of fifteen. Fifteen hundred dollar bills. Or, in other words, a one thousand and five hundred dollars. “Holy _shit.”_

**::x::**

“Tell me, Ben, was the VIP impressed?” Snoke asked, locking the door to his office with a shriveled hand. His tone was callous, collected, with intimidation underlying it. He didn’t look at him, just stood there facing the door patiently.

From where Ben leaned on his boss’ desk, he nodded. “Yes,” he answered, tone bored. He was still in show gear; and he wanted nothing more than to change out of his thong and into boxers.

“Tell me, Ben, were _you_ impressed?”

“Why should I have been impressed? He was just another customer.”

The lights dimmed suddenly, Snoke turning them off with a click. The room was so dark it took Ben aback and rendered him practically blind. There was some shuffling coming from the other end of the room where his boss had been standing, but other than that it was deathly quiet. Fear gripped his heart when he realized he had said the wrong thing. Gripped it harder when a hand grabbed his right arm, twirled him around, and twisted it behind his back without warning. Snoke was pressed up against his back, leaving no room to breathe, no room to _think._

“I _said,_ ” the older man hissed into the younger’s ear, “were _you_ impressed, Ben.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes _what?”_ More pressure was applied to the arm.

Ben thought it would snap.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“On your knees, boy.”

Ben obeyed.

Looking up, he could see the faint outline of his boss’ marred figure peering at him through the darkness. It made him sick inside, that he needed money this badly, but he didn't know what else to do. So he unzipped Snoke’s pants slowly. A tease.

This was just another job.

A hand came down to card through his hair. To twist and pull it until it hurt. He grit his teeth, tried to withhold a grimace. Snoke hated weakness, hated any _sign_ of weakness. If Ben were to show it in any form, he wouldn’t get paid. It was part of their disgusting deal. Which made sense now, really, considering that Snoke was extremely rough with him. Bent him backwards until his back almost broke, hissed crude words at him, put him in humiliating foreplays that left Ben with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ben thought he got off on it. On hurting him so.

When the underwear fell, Ben checked out and went through the motions without feeling. He thought of other things that didn’t involve blowjobs or sexual favors or borderline prostitution. Instead he concentrated on quieting the voice in his mind telling him to bite his boss’ dick off or castrate him or kill him. And when that was squared away, he let his mind wander off. It wandered for some time, flickering between what to have for dinner and how much he could afford. Somehow along the way Hux and his riches wandered in. Teased him with the fantasy of being so rich, of never having to worry financially.

It made Ben burn with envy. 

Before the feeling could really manifest though, he felt Snoke come into his mouth. It was so abrupt that it jerked him out of his thoughts and back into his shitty reality. Almost made him choke and sputter.

“Swallow,” Snoke ordered harshly.

So Ben did, looking directly at him. When there wasn’t any more in his mouth, he asked, “Will that be all, Supreme Leader?”

“If I wanted just a blowjob I would have asked someone beneath you. Get down on all fours.”

And Ben obeyed, the stench of cigarette smoke more apparent the closer he was to the dirty, old carpet.

And when he felt Snoke’s cold hands slipping his thong off, Ben checked out once more.

**::x::**

A week passed before there was any sign of Hux again. The only reason Kylo knew was from the request the man had for him. So when he saw him lounging in the champagne room with his cronies, he raised an eyebrow.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he muttered to himself as he walked over. Hux saw him, caught his eye, and sat up straighter. That made Kylo snort.

“What happened to refusing me service?” he asked once Kylo stood in front of him. All arrogance and smug.

Kylo crossed his arms, stuck out his chin. “Wipe that arrogant grin off your goddamn mouth. I was just about to tell you no.”

“Not even after the tip I gave you?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“You can’t just refuse me service! Not after the commute it took to get here!”

“Cry me a river and find someone else.”

Kylo turned to leave, hoping he had played him just right, when he felt a hand grabbing his wrist. “Listen, I requested _you,”_ he heard Hux say behind him, voice serious and low. “Do you hear me?”

_Bingo. Played like a doll._

Slowly, the dancer turned around. “You’re coming off _needy,_ Hux.”

“Oh am I? Fuck you.”

“You’d be thrown out if you did.”

Green eyes flashed with anger. “Like I would want to in the first place. With your ugly mug it’s a wonder how you even got hired,” he spat. “It’s degrading, what you’re doing. It’s downright disgusting.”

“No,” Kylo retorted, fury boiling fully inside him now. The stigma people had towards him merely for being an exotic dancer was a tiring, never-ending one. He hated ever since he’d started. So he slammed his hands on the wall, trapping Hux, who looked equally riled up. He leaned in, which made his customer lean back, and got right in his face. Customer Treatment Codes be damned. “You want to know what’s fucking degrading? That you took a long commute just to come to a strip club.” Kylo looked Hux up and down. “You got a boyfriend? Husband? Wonder what he must think. What lie did you tell him? Business trip?”

“I’m single.”

“Mm I’m _sure.”_ When Hux said nothing, he took one hand off the wall to unbutton Hux’s collar shirt. A small breath escaped from the smaller man’s lips as he did so. A small, trembling breath of anticipation. “He not putting out?” Kylo guessed, looking at Hux.

“I told you,” Hux grit out, “I’m _single.”_

“Single and no sex life.”

“Are you allowed to be this mean to customers, whore?”

“Are you allowed to be this rude to people, ginger bitch?” 

Kylo, who had been slowly moving onto the couch, was practically straddling Hux now. His tight leather pants stretched at he did so, hugging his form in all the right places. He was, naturally, shirtless, a fact his customer was all too aware of, judging from the downward glances he was prone to making. Hux liked what he saw, he was just too proud to admit it. His front was one of arrogance and nonchalance, yet deep down he was the opposite. Kylo knew. Reading people was one of his favorite pastimes.

He also knew that the more hard-to-get he was, the more Hux enjoyed it. The man loved a chase, it was common within his snobby type.

So the dancer ground down suddenly, lips barely ghosting across his customer’s neck. Although he couldn’t see it, Hux’s eyes widened in surprise.

_“I want your whiskey mouth all over my blonde south…”_

The lights changed from the sultry purple it had once been into strobe blue ones when the new tune came on. Kylo kept slowly grinding on Hux, being sure to switch it up in different ways. He caught Hux in surprise again when he started to kiss his chin, his neck, his collarbone. He kept trailing down lower, secretly loving the way Hux arched for him. Lower and lower down his chest and stomach all the way to his waistband. 

But he stopped there. 

_“Whip me, slap me, punk funk…”_

It was apparent how into it his customer was. Face flushed, breathing erratic, boner barely concealed. Yes, Hux was loving it, reacting to it. Which made it all the more sweet to walk away from him. Leave him high and dry.

And that’s exactly what Kylo did. “I’m allowed to be mean to whomever I please,” he said before walking away, leaving a frustrated customer behind him.

**::x::**

Hux became a regular, showing up every Saturday night. Kylo was his favorite by far, and he’d tip him well each time. Kylo grew to not mind it so much, finding himself actually enjoying dancing for him over time. Ironically they both hated each other to bits, insulting one another whenever they could. Sometimes Kylo would outright refuse him without so much a grind or body shot.

Then there were the times where they got closer than advised. Hux’s hands on Kylo’s ass or scratching his back. Kylo leaving hickeys on his neck and arms, kissing him roughly. It was steadily - dangerously - evolving into more than what the club rules allowed between stripper and customer. However neither of them could seem to stop; too addicted to the fast-paced, intense feeling they got from one another.

Saturday nights became Kylo’s favorite shifts.

No one gave two shits if they were making out or not. Everyone was primarily drunk off their asses or looked the other way. The dim lighting helped hide their inappropriate relations for the most part, and the music was loud enough to drown out any potential moans. For a few hours in Kylo’s hellish week, it was heaven. He almost forgot where he worked and whom he worked for and if he had enough money for rent. 

Eventually reality caught up with them both, though. Snoke caught them heavily making out in the champagne room one night, around ten months after Hux’s first visit. Immediately he kicked Hux out, banned him from the club. 

To Ben he did much worse.

“On your knees, boy.”

“Will I be paid?”

“You think you’re getting paid after your stunt with that customer? _On your knees.”_

“No, I won’t.”

“I said get - on - your - _knees!_ Open up! There’s - _ah_ \- there’s a good boy.”

**::x::**

The early morning air was cool against Ben’s face when he left the club. Streaks of orange colored the grey, star-dotted sky, not that he paid it any attention. It was a struggle to put one foot in front of the other and walk, on account of the bruises lining his hips, but he had to do it. After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone unpaid and it wouldn’t be the last. He could deal with it, roll with the punches. He’d find work at a different club and somehow still be able to uphold the deal for extra cash. It would work itself out. It just had to.

“You look like shit,” a familiar voice said behind him. “Are you going to go work the streets now?”

Ben turned around to see Hux leaning against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips. Outside the club lights, his hair appeared more ginger, his frame a bit bigger. Or maybe that was just an illusion construed by the large overcoat he wore. 

Instantly, Ben’s lip curled. “Yeah? Well you look like a sleazy businessman waiting for his drug dealer to show.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.”

“Tell that to yourself, druggie.”

“Slut.”

“Wow. Haven’t heard that one before. I’m hurt,” Ben said, mockingly putting a hand over his heart. “Did your staff write that for you?”

“Careful, Ren, or I’ll get you fired,” Hux warned, kicking himself off the wall.

Ben let out a bark of laughter, shook his head, waved his arms and hands out wide. “Please do, I’m sure Snoke’ll love to see your face in there again.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed and he took a few steps closer. “Is that -” 

“A threat?” the dancer finished for him, too busy looking around wildly to notice that his former customer’s eyes were trained on his wrists. “I don’t know, you tell m -”

“For once can you shut up?” Hux snapped. Without warning, he caught one of Ben’s hands and brought them down to eye level before the other could jerk away. Purple and blue stained a bracelet around the wrists, red scratches for added adornment up his sleeve. This time it was the ginger’s turn to curl his lip in distaste, letting go once Ben started to struggle. “Who gave those to you?” he asked, eyes murderous.

“No one, I fucking fell from the pole and landed wrong. Fuck off.”

“Bullshit. Was it your creep of a boss? I’ve noticed he looks at you like prey when you don’t see. Was it him?”

“No!”

“You’re lying.” Getting out his wallet, he handed Ben a business card with his name and address on it, along with his tip for the night. “You,” he said, “now work for me. You’re going to quit this job, understood?”

“You’re not my mother,” Ben sneered, but he took the card and money anyway.

“I’m your _boss._ Be at that address 8 a.m. sharp Monday morning. Wear a suit.”

“What kind of job is it?”

“You’re my new personal assistant.”

At that, Ben had to laugh. “You’re fucking with me. I’m a stripper, not some - some - some _servant_ cleaning up after his master.”

Hux waved a hand in dismissal, turning to leave. “You’ll get paid twice as much when you work for me. I look forward to your first day at work, Ren.” And with that he walked off, tapping cigarette ashes onto the ground as he went.

Ben made a face behind his back before taking a look at the black card. _First Order Inc., NYC_ was the first thing he saw, text in cool red. _CEO Hux, Brenton._ He furrowed his brow, reread the words again. _CEO Hux, Brenton._ Hux...no. No that couldn’t be right. There was no way the CEO of such a company spent his Saturday nights in a _strip club_ of all places. That was impossible. The man had things to do and deals to make, not dirty dance with a stripper.

The stack of hundred dollar bills in his hand suddenly became heavier with awareness. Ben looked at it, then at the card, then back at it. “For fuck’s sake!” he yelled, throwing it at the wall. “That _motherfucker.”_


End file.
